Capturing the Harvest Moon

Gary W. GreenOrlando Sentinel

As I was driving my son to high school before dawn on Monday, September 12, 2011, he mentioned to me that we should witness what he referred to as a "blood moon," that evening, otherwise known as a harvest moon to the less dramatically inclined.

We usually comment about the sunrise on the way to school, but this morning was unique in that we were witnessing a beautiful sunrise at the same time a nearly full moon slowly descended upon the horizon.

After dropping him off, I quickly Googled his conviction that we would experience a full harvest moon on the 12th, and as usual, my 14-year-old son possessed factual knowledge unbeknown to me.

As I drove south along the 417 from Sanford, Fla. towards Orlando, I kept watching the setting moon grow a deeper orange as it moved closer to the quickly approaching horizon. I needed a good place to shoot it, preferably with a strong, recognizable foreground. The reflection upon Lake Jessup was beautiful, but there was nowhere safe to stop, get out my gear and make some photos other than a narrow emergency lane. The moon was a little too high in the sky still, and certainly not worth getting run over by morning commuters, so I kept driving.

By the time I reached the Oviedo Marketplace exit, the moon was almost out of sight from ground level. I knew if I wanted to make any frames of it, I had to get off the highway now and start shooting. I likely only had about five to ten minutes left before it would be below the horizon and out of sight. I quickly parked, jumped out of my Jeep and grabbed my camera gear to make some pictures.

Fortunately I had my long glass, the 400mm, with me from covering football over the weekend, otherwise shooting the moon would have been a moot point, as it would have more closely resembled a distant star millions of miles away.

I frantically scrambled along the sidewalks and streets of Oviedo desperately looking for an aesthetically pleasing vantage point. I was thinking to myself that I had to choose the most visually decrepit area possible! I actually described the scene as visual vomit to my editors. There were street signs and telephone poles everywhere. I couldn't get a clean background to save my life.

The moon was getting lower and lower and I still hadn't made a decent picture. Why didn't I plan ahead and shoot the moon setting over downtown or out in the swamps with it's rich orange glow shimmering over the wetlands with rising steam through the Spanish moss and oak trees? Another time, another day. For now, I thought, I'll just work the angles I have and hopefully have a decent detail at least of the orange moon. And that I did! I never did satisfy my creative urge, despite the effort. I equate the feeling to that of going fishing and coming up empty. You still get to enjoy the beauty and serenity of nature, but still leave feeling a little empty.

Although the last full moon of the summer has come and gone, we should still enjoy some brilliant moon rises and moon sets as we approach the autumn equinox next week. Check your Farmers Almanac, grab your cameras and lenses and head to that perfect spot. Just don't wait until you are stuck driving down a busy highway with a brilliantly orange moon in front of you and nowhere to stop.